


Best Way I Know How

by booboodaddy (orphan_account)



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Murder House
Genre: AHS, Aftercare, Discipline, F/M, Maid, Punishment, Spanking, f/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 17:43:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4488792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/booboodaddy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moira disciplines Tate after finding out about his school habits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Way I Know How

**Author's Note:**

> One of my first discipline stories, so don't judge. Set in 1994 while Tate is still alive and attends Westfield.

Tate laid on his back on his mattress, his brown eyes glued to the ceiling. His chest was rising and falling steadily, though minutes before it was the exact opposite.

His mother, Constance, had just gotten a call from Westfield. The principal had told her that he'd been skipping all his classes lately- it wasn't a lie, per say. Which sucked.

He couldn't blame it on the school system for lying, because they both knew it was the truth. Tate had always been finding ways to get out of going to class, but recently it had gone downhill. He had barely gone to classes this semester, and his grades definitely reflected it.

His counselor had threatened to alert his mother that day at school, though Tate didn't think he would actually do it- but as soon as he walked in the door, knew Constance had found out. She was chainsmoking in the kitchen, and a grim look appeared on her face as soon as she saw her son.

"Go up to your room," Constance had said sharply, taking a drag from her cigarette and then stubbing it on the granite counter. "You'll be dealt with in a few minutes."

As much as he wanted to defy his mother, there was a strange sense of sternness she never gave off. Constance was barely a mother to him- she just slept in the same home and signed her name on legal documents. So, why should he ever take her seriously? Why should Tate give a shit?

But this time was different. Constance was harder than normal. She had stopped trying to be an authority figure when Tate had hit middle school, because she knew it would result to nothing. It was eerie to see her even attempt it, and scarier that Tate had obeyed without question.

His eyes drifted over to the digital alarm clock on his bed stand. It had surely been more than a few minutes, Tate thought to himself as he exhaled deeply. Maybe she just needed him to go away so she could cool off.

Just as he shut his eyes, the door to his bedroom opened. Tate bolted up and his eyebrows furrowed as he saw who was standing in front of him.

Moira was in the doorway, wearing her housekeeping uniform. One hand was on a hip. She pressed her lips together and shut the door quietly, then turned to look at Tate. "So what seems to be the problem here?"

Thoughts were running through his head a mile a minute. Moira? What the hell was she doing up here? Where was Constance? He cleared his throat and his posture relaxed. "I don't know what you mean."

She chuckled bitterly as she walked towards the bed. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, Tate," Moira said nonchalantly as she took a seat next to him on the bed. "Heard you've been ditching classes. Again."

Tate looked down at his lap, and muttered something inaudible. Of course his mother wanted to assume the parental position, but didn't want to do it herself.

"What was that?" Moira asked Tate in a surprisingly firm voice. She was only in her twenties, so Tate had never assumed her to be in a position of authority.

"Nothing," he said in response sharply, his eyes darting up to her. They locked on her face as he tried to figure out what her intentions were. "Get out of my room."

Moira scoffed a little and shook her head, tsk-ing. A slight smirk graced her red lips. "Oh, no," she breathed out, setting her hand on Tate's cheek. "I'm up here because your mother sent me. She said that you need someone to set you straight, but it can't be her, for you won't listen." Moira grinned deviously and gently patted his cheek. "Mrs. Langdon told me to do it the best way I know how."

Tate's cheeks heated up and he squirmed a little. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton. No one ever treated him like this. "And what is that?"

She gently stroked his cheek with her thumb, moving her hand to his leg. "You're gonna get a spanking, and you're gonna go down and apologize to your mother afterwards."

He bolted up from his sitting position and backed away towards the closet. "A spanking?" Tate sputtered. He laughed sarcastically. "No. You can't spank me. I'm seventeen, and you don't have any control over me."

Moira shot him a stern look before grabbing his wrist and yanking it towards her. "Oh, but I do. I'm acting in place of your mother. Now, bend over my lap."

He was physically shaking at this point. Tate hadn't been spanked since he was a toddler- and he was alright with it. He couldn't believe he was expected to take a whooping from his maid. It was every other guy's sexual fantasy, but Tate was scared half to death. "No, please, Moira."

She shook her head and sighed, pulling him over herself. Tate grunted as his hands hit the floor, resuming a downwards dog position over her lap. He felt her hand set on his bottom, which was protected by jeans. 

"You know you've had this coming, Tate. You can't put off well needed discipline forever."

He swallowed hard, a crackling noise in his ears. Tate clenched his ass as she rubbed it, but she soon raised her knees and made that impossible.

Moira raised her hand, ready to strike him, but then laughter erupted from her lips. "Oh, what am I thinking?" she said, shutting her eyes. Relief washed over Tate momentarily- it was all a joke.

Relief left as fast as it came as Moira yanked down his jeans, then his boxers. The cold air hit his bare skin as well as her soft hand. "Boys like you get it bare."

The first smack made Tate's whole body quiver. He shut his eyes tight as Moira patted the red spot, then smacked it again hard.

"I've been waiting for the day Constance realized you needed this," she mused to herself, landing another firm smack on his left cheek.

Tate whimpered gently and hung his head. "I'm just honored that I'm the one that gets to administer it." Another stinging smack hit his right cheek, and a pattern began.

Swats rained down on his poor bottom, from left to right to left to right. It was already starting to redden, seeing as his last spanking was years before. Tears started to well up in Tate's eyes, soft noises coming out of his mouth each time she gave him another spank.

"If you don't go to school, you're going to end up living in the streets," Moira scolded, keeping up her pattern. "You're going to be a nobody. Do you want to be a nobody, Tate?"

He kept quiet, sniffling a little and keeping his eyes shut tight. A sharp smack made him jolt forward. "Answer me, Tate."

"No," Tate croaked out as her hand massaged his burning bottom.

She then landed another one in the same spot she had hit before, right in the middle. "No, ma'am."

He whimpered loudly and exhaled shakily. "No, ma'am."

A pleased grin spread across Moira's face and she started to smack his sit spots. "That's more like it, isn't it? You need to start recognizing authority, or this won't be a one time thing."

Each smack came harder and harder, and finally, Tate started crying. "That won't earn you any sympathy points, baby," she said, ruffling his hair with one hand, keeping up the discipline with the other.

She had his red bottom raised in the air over her lap, a perfect target for her spanks. Every one hit him exactly where she wanted it to.

For five more minutes, filled with scolding, Moira continued to spank him. Finally, she rested her hand on his bottom. "Will you start going to class now?" she asked softly as her hand rested on his back.

Tate nodded furiously, blinking away tears. "Yes, ma'am."

"Will you start obeying your mother, like a good boy?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Moira gently patted his bottom. "Get up," she said, and Tate complied. He covered himself with his hands, and Moira smirked a little. "Lie over the bed on your stomach."

Worry flashed in his eyes, and she chuckles bitterly. "Your spanking is over. Now just lie over the bed."

He nodded slowly and laid down as she told him to, his hands resting under his chin. "I'll be back in a second," she said as she walked out of the room.

Tate's mind was a battle between hormones and shame as he laid facedown on the bed. What the hell had just happened? All he knew was that he had been punished like a little boy.

Moira walked into the bedroom again, but Tate couldn't see her from the angle he was sitting at. She sat near his legs on the bed and suddenly something freezing cold hit his sore ass. He tensed up and inhaled sharply. "Shh," Moira said slowly, rubbing it in. "It's lotion."

It stung momentarily, but suddenly it was the most soothing thing in the world. Tate's body slowly relaxed as she rubbed it in.

"I think that maybe this should become a weekly thing," Moira said, her hand massaging his bum. "All of your problems can't be fixed in one spanking."

Tate looked down, closing his eyes. "I don't want it to be a weekly thing. This was bad enough," he breathed out, speaking his mind for the first time in a long time.

She snickered softly, and her lips pressed against his ass, leaving a red lipstick mark that stuck out against the pink.

"Well, baby, you aren't in charge."


End file.
